


Starry Night

by xKyosan



Category: Iron Man (Comic), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers (TV), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: M/M, Pining, Romance, Starry Night, Stony - Freeform, bit of angst, fluff mostly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-27
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-07-18 16:38:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7322824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xKyosan/pseuds/xKyosan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Steve and Tony have been living in Stark Towers for a while. They are the only two current full time residence, though from time to time people stop by to see them. </p><p>Steve begins having strange dreams about Tony that he can never remember when he opens his eyes - all he ever recalls is the blue glow of Tony's reactor. Slowly the dreams begin to clear and he's terrified at what he realizes his mind has created.</p>
          </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Tony have been living in Stark Towers for a while. They are the only two current full time residence, though from time to time people stop by to see them. 
> 
> Steve begins having strange dreams about Tony that he can never remember when he opens his eyes - all he ever recalls is the blue glow of Tony's reactor. Slowly the dreams begin to clear and he's terrified at what he realizes his mind has created.

Steve woke up in a cold sweat. Like most nights, he'd only managed to sleep for a few hours, on and off. His lips parted and he gave a soft and subtle sigh as his heavy and massive chest lifted. Legs flung over the bed and he crouched into a curl, groaning. Sleepless nights were harder and harder to deal with. Elbows met his thighs, and he held his face in his hands, stretching the skin as he pulled back, standing.

  
He knew he was dreaming, and that the dreams were what was waking him, but as soon as his blue eyes stared into the world, he'd forget everything he'd been so blissfully consumed by. And it was taunting. He'd desperately cling to the smallest fragmented memory he could grip - but it was constantly torn from him in only a few moments.

  
A blue glow, muddled by cloth, that was the only thing that constantly stayed the same. He never knew what the glow was, or what was muting it's shine into the darkness of the room, and it wasn't for lack of trying. He'd cling to that blue as his eyes peeled open. The most curious part to him was that he always woke feeling butterflies dancing in his belly, and it made him nauseous. Who in his dreams could possibly give him that feeling?

He stood and marched his way across the suite. Living in Stark Towers was a blessing in itself, he thought. Everything was there for him, he never had to do much, either, not that he intended to mooch off Tony, that would give Tony an even more advanced an overwhelming sense of ownership.

  
He slipped behind the pristine white door, admiring the divots in the design that made it stand out from standard doors. When Tony went all out, he really went all out.

  
He popped the lid and seat up to the toilet, looking over his shoulder, into the mirror. He caught how deep the bags under his eyes had gotten. So sunken, colorless. He groaned at the flaw. His head was quick to snap focus back on the task at hand.

  
Steve was by far a very basic person, he didn't have a lot of hobbies, and he didn't spend much time socializing. But lately, he'd been having strange feelings about living with The Avengers. Specifically Tony. The man had been behaving - oddly - towards him and he wasn't sure how to cope with it. He would casually shrug it off and chuckle at the almost flirtatious behavior. Rationalizing it as a simple strengthened bond between them, but at his core he knew it was something more, and it was growing. He was scared.

  
Captain America, scared? He shook the thought of Tony out of his mind. His fingers pressed the silver lever, and as the whooshing came through, he spun around and sighed, again. Not only did his shoulders lift and fall, but his entire chest heaved as he tried to lift the weight of the unknown of his mind. But again the thought of Tony crossed his mind as hot water poured over his hands, and again he shook off the thought of the man and slipped back into his room.  
His eyes trailed over to the clock, 2:00 AM.

"Wonderful." He groaned, moving towards his dresser, he didn't mind being shirtless in the house, but pants-less was unacceptable. He pulled on a pair of dark gray sweats and headed out towards the common area. Maybe a light walk around the giant building would calm his minds rampaging.

"What the hell are you doing up?" Tony approached from behind and stared at Steve, a few inches different between the two of them, but Tony felt short and that wasn't something he really liked to feel.

  
"I couldn't sleep..."

"I'd offer you some medicine but we both know it won't work on you." He laughed, placing his hand on Steve's shoulder, grabbing it, a bit aggressively, as he passed by. Steve ignored the attempt at out domination and followed Stark down the hall.

"What are you doing up, Tony?"

"You know me, constantly tinkering." He glanced back, chuckling for a swift moment. It was short lived. Before Steve could really make sense of even the laugh, Tony's brows attempted a furrow, and the bottom of his lip quivered. His tongue poked out for a mere moment before retreating. It was just enough time to moisten his lips with a shiny glow. And he wasn't looking at Steve, he was looking through him, like his mind was being taken somewhere off plane. Eyes so tired, and almost sad, but desperate. It left Steve completely bewildered.

"Tony?" He followed him further down the hall, not ready to let go of the sensation he had about Tony. He didn't know how to deal with the man, he didn't have any idea of what he was ever thinking, and it pulled him in every time, more and more. How to deal with the mans ego was a question that constantly taunted him, but to be one on one with Tony and dealing with him was even more difficult. The constant fear of a misstep. Thinking he might say something, and how Tony's damaged ego could take it the wrong way. Because Steve knew that while Anthony Edward Stark always prattled on about how much of bad ass playboy he was, he was still just an intimidated kid, trying to live up to his fathers expectations.

Tony kept pressing on though, and Steve followed, he had no intention of going anywhere until he found out what it was that was bothering Stark. Regardless of how they behaved in the group dynamic, they were friends, both perhaps too Alpha to get along in the right way involving a group leader.

Tony slipped into a room that Steve had, admittedly, never been to, which wasn't surprising, considering how big the building really was. But as to what the room was used for, he hadn't the slightest clue, because it was basically empty.

"What is this place?" Steve looked about the dimly lit room, eager to see the glow of Tony's reactor.

"It's just an empty room. But, I figured..." Tony sighed, moving back towards Steve. "I know you've been painting and - I was hoping you'd have a little art gallery up here. Gives me an excuse to host parties."

Tony forced a smile.

"Tony -"

"Just say yes, Steve, Jesus. Stop being so damn modest all the time."

Steve sighed, a gentle smile creeping over his lips. He really did like Tony, as aggressive and stubborn as he was. He closed his eyes, the smile expanding. "Alright, fine." 

Tony was taken aback by the answer, he had prepared an entire likely conversation between them earlier with JARVIS and wasn't expecting Steve to give in without more of a push.

"Seriously?" Tony gleamed moving towards Steve. The depth of the smile was short lived, though, and he pulled it back into a gentle smile, reaching a glass out. "Cheers to that." He took the drink down in one gulp, letting out a scratchy breath as the burn tingled his throat.

"At least your mouth's clean." Steve widened his eyes at what he'd just said. The rest of the team must have been rubbing off on him. And as terrified as he looked, it dissipated as soon as Tony filled with laughter.

"Oh, that's something Tasha would say, she's rubbing off on you buddy!" He grabbed Steve's shoulder, stabilizing himself. Steve looked down at the man, watching his hand loosen before it pulled away. He grabbed at Tony's wrist, holding out for him to stay.

"Uh - Cap?" Tony tugged away a bit, looking over Steve's face as worry consumed him. He stared into the big blue eyes of his counterpart - turning back to face him head on. "Are you ok?" His eyes narrowed onto Steve's, eyebrows raising at the lack of response.

"Steve?" Tony's voice had sounded a little panicked at the lack of response, even more so because Steve still had a decent grip on his wrist. "Steve, seriously - this isn't funny...." His voice darkened a bit, irritation setting in.

"Steve!?" He called out again, closing the distance between them, half ready to grab Steve's face to force his attention. "CAP?!" He finally got a reply, Steve's eyes shifted to Tony's. The entire dream had come crashing down onto him from the moment his skin met Tony's.

"Sorry - I..." He pushed passed Tony and disappeared down the hall in a haze. Tony knew he was fast - but that speed wasn't something he had expected. And he was left leaning out the door, seeing no sign of Steve anywhere.

Tony hung in the door frame for a moment, wondering what it was that got Steve so, unbent. His brows furrowed, and he recalled the tight grip, how Steve knuckles had turned white, mouth hanging open like some giant epiphany had come crashing down on him. How fast he darted from the room, like he was escaping some darkness. Tony though mostly on that. How quickly Steve threw Tony's hand down and made way for the door, how quickly he'd disappeared down the hall, and into the darkness of the building. 

But of course that didn't stop Tony from going after him - after all it was his building, he knew the entire place, so there wasn't anywhere Steve could hide. He moved down the hall, his bare feet tapping against the floor as he walked about, looking down the halls that led towards the residential suite where Steve stayed.  
He peeked into the door, and watched as Steve leaned over, panting. His shoulders gyrated as his hands clawed at the dresser. Tony's eyes sunk as the wave of concern took him over again. He couldn't help but open the door and look at Steve.

"Steve?" He stepped closer to him, reaching out to grab him, forcing him around, looking up into the blue of his eyes. He caught the glimpse of fear that had rested in him. And it hurt - what could possibly scare him?

"Are you ok?" Tony brought his hands to Steve's shoulders, holding them, hard, beneath his palms. He had never seen the man looking so desperate for help and it hurt him to the core.

"I- I don't know what's happening to me... " He tucked himself against Tony, pulling the him closer, holding him by the small of his back. Tony opened his mouth to gasp, but stayed silent at the contact. He was surprised at the gentle but persuasive touch that Steve had given. He had never touched another man the same way as they were touching, and he didn't know where to place himself.

"I feel like I'm losing a piece of me... and I can't figure out how to save it...." Steve's breath fell hot against Tony's neck, and he shivered at the sensation, churning against Steve's body. He wasn't trying to react in that way - he had always meant for his flirtatious attitude to be a joke - never anything serious.

But the way Steve was making him feel led him to believe that perhaps he was only lying to himself about his true intentions. And he even found that his body was replying to Steve in a way that he would have normally never done. His arms had wrapped around Steve's neck, and he'd shifted up a bit, heels off the floor, to hold Steve closer, fingers tangling in the blonde locks. 

  
The worst of it was the way Steve held him back, holding him so tight it was suffocating the room in a tense air of romance. But he didn't want to pull away, he wanted to be closer, he wanted to smell Steve's hair, he wanted to feel his breath, he wanted to never let go of their embrace because he felt truly safe in that situation.

'It's going to be okay.' He thought, wanting to tell Steve that no matter what, they would be okay - but he didn't really know if they could _always_ be okay - he was always doing something to irritate someone and screw up his relationships.

"I'm sorry Tony." Steve attempted to pull away, but Tony grabbed harder, clinging onto him like he was the only source of life.

"Tony?" Steve's voice was soft and gentle - as usual, and it made Tony feel even more safe than before.

"I think... I think my father would be very proud of you..." The words fell like an avalanche from Tony's lips. 

 

He finally released his grip on the American Icon, doing his best to hide his own torment. His body flipped around and he disappeared from the room before Steve could even respond to the strange statement.

He had hoped for a dream that night, and hoped that in the morning he would remember every detail of it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finding love in all the wrong places. Natasha joins Steve and Tony in Stark Towers and tries to help Steve piece together how to approach Tony about his dreams. In the end, Steve is more confused than ever.

Steve wasn’t sure what to really make of what Tony had said. He didn’t even know if Tony had actually meant to say it out loud even. Remembering the glaze over his eyes, he couldn’t be sure if he had wanted to cry - or if he was so in awe of Steve.

It was a ridiculous - Tony being in awe of anyone other than himself. That was a crude thought. Steve wiped it from his mind.

But what had Tony meant? Steve had known Howard when he was still a bachelor, still roaming the night, making a fool of himself. He had never thought in a million years that he would befriend the man’s son - if he could call their relationship a friendship. Steve never knew what was going on in Tony’s head, but he was constantly concerned for the moron - that was more than obvious.

He recalled the many times he had poured Tony into bed, watching him in disappointment as he attempted to recover from a drunken stupor he had delved into the night before. What demons was he trying to escape? And then that statement, directed at Steve, about how Howard would feel about him.

He should have said that to Tony. Tony was he one that needed to hear his father approved of him, even if it was a remote lie - because hell Steve had no idea if Howard did or didn’t approve of Tony. But he knew that if Howard didn’t that Steve would fight like hell to prove him wrong. Tony was a genius, but when he looked at him, Tony was always prancing around with this I’m-not-good-enough sentiment. It drove Steve mad. For good reason.

The man was fast to his own defense, but really behind the quick tongue and sleek suits there was just a child pinning after his father’s affection. Daddy’s Issues. Steve huffed a sigh out at the thought as his hands ran through his morning hair. Not that shocking really.

“I should go make him breakfast… I don’t think he’s had a decent meal in days.” Steve jostled around the covers, trying to repress the thoughts of Tony that constantly rang in his head.

 

After tidying up his room he made his way down the small flight of stairs that led towards the kitchen area of the residential area. He heard, somewhere in the distance, Tony swearing - much to Steve’s dismay. He ignored it. He knew how hot headed Tony could get and annoying him with his old life antics would just frustrate him. And the thought of a frustrated Tony forced Steve’s lips into a crooked smile. He caught himself and immediately shook it off.

“He’s your partner - stop.” he groaned to himself, sliding up the door to the ridiculously high-tech looking fridge. Of course it was high-tech, he was living with Tony in Stark Towers, the toilet was high-tech.

“Who you talking about?” Steve jumped at the feminine voice, his hands raising defensively as a completely unwelcome instinctual response.

“Widow,” he lowered his hands, rolling his head into a shake as he eased himself from combat mode.

“You _can_ call me Natasha you know.”

“Sorry - I didn’t -” he groaned. “Tash…” she could see the worry on his face. She was obviously about to be brought in on something he wasn’t sure he wanted to tell her.

 

But he did. He, in fact, couldn’t leave out any details of the dream he had finally been able to fully recall. Though he hadn’t had one the night before, after there strange rendezvous in the middle of the damn night - the one from before felt so close to the surface.

“Should I tell him?”

 

She started in with shaking her head before finally giving him and crisp and firm, “No.”

 

He paused, his face twisting as he was displeased by the answer. He _wanted_ to tell Tony his feelings, wanted the man’s input on it all. Which was a terrible, terrible idea, and in his gut he knew that.

“It’s not that I don’t think you should tell him - eventually.” she gave a hard and long pause, searching for the best way to explain herself. “But… Stevie…” She gave a sigh, “He’s Tony… He’s gonna put you down - you gotta know that.”

Steve gave a weak and solemn shrug. She was right, he would reject him, and that would just end up in an awkward living situation - and Steve didn’t trust Tony enough to be alone and actually take care of himself. Not yet.

“I know you’re right. It just…” He let his voice trail, his deep passionate gaze falling on Tasha’s accepting green eyes.

“I know.” She did know, knew too well, knew too close to her heart exactly what it was like to feel as though you wanted something you could never truly possess. It was their life. Wanting, only to never receive.

 

Tony finally made an appearance into the kitchen, covered in grease from basically head to toe. The only parts of him that had remained clean was a small patch on his shirt, ironically where the arc reactor was. He looked over Steve and then Natasha, gave a half witted smile as though he’d completed some feat. Almost as if he was triumphant because they were alone in the same room.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Steve started in, placing a perfectly balanced meal in front of Tony, only to slap at his hand when he tried to grab at the bacon with his greased up fingers. “Go wash up first, this isn’t a brothel.” His eyebrows knitted together, tightly, and he heard Tash give a snorted laugh from the other side of the table.

“You know Spangles, sometimes there’s no hiding that you are from the 40’s.” Tony scoffed and made his way around Cap, sneaking a piece of bacon from his plate, leaving Steve down to only two slices. He definitely hadn’t nibbled on one while he was cooking either, nope, definitely not.

Steve’s gaze fell on Natasha, and she gave back a strange smile that he couldn’t for the life of him read, he had no clue what was bouncing around in her big beautiful brain. So all he could do was stare back at her; bewilderment struck across his face.

“Am I catching some vibes in here?” Tony pulled back his chair, reaching out to grab the cup of orange juice Steve had actually poured for himself. He had already had a cup of coffee and figured it was time for something else. But all he did was watch as Tony downed nearly the entire glass before letting out a raspy gasp.

“Uhm…” Natasha gave a chuckle, shaking her head as she let it sink. “Definitely not, unless you’re the one sending them.” She lifted her eyes, glanced at Steve and darted her attention back to Tony.

She watched as the confusion covered his face, he looked back between the two of them. Pursing his lips was the only thing from stopping him at blurting something stupid out, but the longer he held his lips, the more he wanted to say something.

“So you two…” He glanced between them unable to hold the thought back any longer. “You aren’t like… interested in dating?”

 

Steve grew tense, and Tony noted it - because let’s be honest, Steve hiding his muscles? He looked him over and got a soft smile, and that was how the ice cracked beneath them all and Natasha decided that she was wrong earlier - telling Steve that it was a bad idea to tell Tony.

“Yea,” she started in, shaking her head. “He’s uh, definitely not interested in me, Tony.” She shot a smile at Steve. He was red in the face, eyes wide, nearly hyperventilating though his chest remained still.

“Oh?” Tony’s eyes lit up like he had just discovered some crazy invention that was going to send Stark Industries shooting through the universe. He looked at Steve, completely oblivious, so naive, so - sweet.

“Yea he’s got his eye on someone but I think he’s too nervous to talk about it.” She teased, taking a quick bite of her toast. Crumbs fell to her plate, and covered the edges of her mouth, but it didn’t stop her smirk from reaching Steve’s eyes.

“Yea…” Steve groaned, tearing his eyes away from her so he could see Tony. “I do.” He gave a sigh, waiting for the avalanche of questions he was suspecting Tony had for him.

But he was greeted with silence. Pure and agonizing silence. And he looked over the man, his lip tightening as he saw a twinge of pain release into Tony’s deep brown eyes.

“Tones?” Steve hadn’t used a pet name like that before on him - not in any real realm. Sure he called Tony a lot of things in his dreams, even once used his full name. The memory came at him like wildfire, and he tore his face from Tony’s, standing up only to knock over the chair.

Tasha attempted to grab at his hand but missed, and he ran from the room, leaving only Tony and her behind, both shocked and confused at what had happened.

They didn’t speak, just ate in silence, hoping neither of them had upset Steve.

 

He wasn’t _upset._ Not in an angry way at least. He was more disgusted with himself for allowing such an unholy thought to come to his mind in the middle of their 'pleasant' breakfast. And he found himself hunched over in his room, a pillow in his lap, cradling it as he rocked trying to fight the memory of that particular dream back into the darkest parts of his mind.

 

_“Anthony,” He watched as Tony’s face flushed with lust, grabbing at his chest, bucking against him, moaning softly through pursed lips that hid the teeth biting at them. His eyes caught Steve’s and they screamed for more, though, from where Steve stood, it looked somewhat pained. Maybe it was, maybe Tony was in pain, maybe it was hurting him, but Steve didn’t think he could stop. Tony’s hands sent mixed signals, his breath screamed more, and he squirmed hard under Steve, the dim light of the room barely showing his expressions, giving Steve little to go on other than the noises Tony couldn’t help but utter._

_A moan here, a groan there, huffing, panting, rolling hard against him, begging for more of him, to touch more, feel more, taste more of him, to devour him in his entirety. But Steve pulled back, only for Tony to grab him by the neck, beckoning for his return, to taste him again. Steve had a hard time denying Tony, fighting hard against the sinful desire, he wanted to stop, wanted to free Tony from the terrible act. Yet every time he pulled away, Tony would pull him in harder, and lust would overwhelm him into thrusting again, watching Tony’s head roll back as he bucked his hips to deepen the connection._

_“More… P- Please…” Tony’s words, they hit Steve hard, and as he tried to give into Tony’s desires, the man pushed back against him, as if trying to push him away. Steve was confused, he tried to pull back, but Tony brought him back in, and then pushed him away. He never stopped looking up at him, eyes smoldering with lust._

_“Steve-” Tony let out a muffled moan, his voice jumping two octaves too high for his usual voice. But the moan was_ **_definitely_ ** _there, and it took everything in Steve not to ravage him then._

_“Anthony.” He said Tony’s name with such passion, such longing and such desire that nearly as soon as it was uttered, he felt the need to say it, over and over and over._

 

“Steve?” Tasha’s voice tore him from the memory like he was being forcibly awakened by a scatter bomb. And their eyes locked, the look of sheer terror holding his eyes so tightly that her face scrunched for a second.

“Sorry…” He muttered, his brows furrowing to the center of his forehead, “I was thinking about something.”

“Tony’s worried he upset you… He didn’t say anything - but with him it’s pretty obvious that workshop door closed, clamoring around - somethings wrong.” She moved into his room, inviting herself to sit next to him on his perfectly made bed - aside from the pillow hiding the erection that sprouted in the middle of breakfast.

He didn’t say anything, didn’t need to, she had an  _idea_ of what was bothering him. In her eyes, it stood to reason that he had had many dreams of Tony and was just then realizing them after finally accepting that it was ‘okay’ to have them at all.

“I’m sitting here trying to rationalize why I might be feeling this way.”

“That’ll drive you mad real quick.” She gave a soft chuckle, remembering her own love-gone-wrong issues with Bruce. He’d left; thought he was protecting her, probably thought she deserved better than him. He was wrong, in her eyes, but that didn’t matter anymore, because he was _gone._

“I can see how it would have happened, I guess I’m just missing the _when_.” He didn’t look at her, kept his eyes locked on a small fiber on the carpet, a piece of thread from something.

“It doesn’t matter when. What matters is what you chose to do with the information. Do you think Tony’s ready for it?”

“I don’t know… last night…”

Her interest was peaked, though she had a feeling he didn’t really want to discuss is. And as badly as she wanted to know she let the subject drop. She knew how hard it was to discuss things that were better left unsaid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, so first off, thank you all for commenting me and intriguing me to write more! Also, this chapter was soooo great to write. I love writing after reading fics because I feel it helps you get a grasp on the characters! I honestly am hoping to stay up tonight to write some more so you may be getting another update today!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breaking down Steve's walls is easy for a master assassin. Especially when that master is Natasha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOOOOO  
> Fun chapter, sorry its short! Better than nothing, right?

“You need to tell me what happened the other night.” Natasha welcomed herself into Steve’s room, unannounced as usual. “If you ever expect to get out of…” She looked about his cluttered room. “Whatever _this_ is.”

His room was in desperate need of a good wash down. Not that it was smelly, or really _dirty_ , but for Steve’s usual standard of cleanliness - it was a stye. Natasha was made uncomfortable by his lack of communication and constant dodging of social occasions. Steve wasn’t being Steve and Tony was being more Tony than she could honestly handle on her own.

“Steve,” she sighed, seating herself next to him on the bed. “This isn’t you. What’s going on?” Her concern was genuinely placed before him. Steve was on a wild streak, a downward spiral that most would have expected from Tony but never from Steve. He was always the calm and collected one, while Tony would run off the edge of a cliff with his emotional outbursts.

“I don’t know.” He let out a groan, turning his head so his gaze fell upon the balcony doorway. “I just feel so -” he stopped, yet again leaving her hanging onto his every word, analyzing and breaking down hidden truths. He had a problem with speaking in tongues, sometimes. He’d say one thing - mean it, but mean something hidden beneath the surface.

“Steve…” Her lips pursed, eyes wandering about the room. Her intentions to help him could result in the severing of a friendship she needed more than anyone knew. “You can’t beat yourself up because you like him.” She brought her stare back to him, their eyes dancing for a moment. She was right, and he knew that.

“I… It’s just…” forming an adequate thought was still a treacherous task he’d care not to deal with, but had no other choice. The thing needed to be discussed, or he would drive himself into a turmoil of insanity.

“You think it’s wrong?” her question wasn’t as drilling as he’d expected. Widow had that way about her, after a few minutes of discussion, frustration would set in. Of course that was only with friends, against an enemy she had endless patience.

“What?” he paused, face twisted, “Oh…” Homosexuality… _right._ He gave a sigh, pulling his hands to his face, a sorry attempt to shield himself from the conversation he still didn’t want to have. What was the point in feeling so sinful about something when he’d no longer known if he really believed in God, any god? What type of god could let the things that were happening to them, happen to them? The world was so vastly different from when he’d been in the ice. Nothing was the same - and he hadn’t a clue who he really was anymore.

“Do you?” She rang in again, her hand moving to his, forcing his hand down, forcing him to look at her. Her hand and his stayed cupped, and his lips pulled into half a smile - more like half of a half of a smile.

“No.” He shook his head, hating himself for the answer. “It feels right… every time we’re together - it feels right.” he groaned, pulling away from her, covering his face again. He didn’t want to talk anymore, not that he had in the first place.

“Then stop festering on it, Steve.” She stood up, staring him up and down. “Tony’s jealous. I got that out of him earlier. You have no idea how returned your feelings are, and it’s adorable.” She let out a short laugh and waltzed out of the room, more than happy with herself for finally bringing some Black Widow light to the situation.

The triumph was short lived, however. When she marched into the living area (or gathering hall as Tony called it for some reason) to find Tony and Pepper seated on the couch, she knew something was wrong. An immediate glance at the situation and it looked like they were going to get back together. A pleading Pepper, an apologetic Tony - bad idea. _Very_ bad idea.

“Hey Tony!” She wasn’t about to let Steve lose to Pepper. Sure she and Natasha got along, quite well actually. But Natasha was very keen on emotional energies, and she could see Tony and Pepper crash and burn again - no one needed that headache. Especially not Tony. “Pepper.” she had to address her.

“Oh, hey Natasha.” Tony shifted to her, his eyes on the hallway to Steve’s room. “Is Steve going to…” He stopped himself, tearing his eyes away from the hallway and back to Pepper.

“How are you Natasha?” Pepper stood, feeling the tension Natasha placed without much care or concern of how it would affect everyone.

“I’m fine, you?” Chit chat was a waste of time but necessary. Especially necessary with Pepper. She ran a fortune 500 - fortune 5000 - company. Tony’s company. You had to play nice.

“Good. Tony and I were just discussing some things.” Her eyes shifted to Tony, looking over him for a moment, a soft smile appearing.

“Oh?” Natasha didn’t need an answer to the questioning words, she already knew from the look on Tony’s face.

“Yea, but I need to go. I’ll send you a copy of the documents later Tony, ok?” She didn’t get an answer, more of a half attempt at a nod. In one ear and out the other.

“Have a nice day.” Natasha smiled, fake but convincing enough for most people to accept and slide by with.

She waited for the lift doors to close before drilling into Tony about why it was such a bad idea, but before she managed to get one single word out he broke the silence.

“Don’t.” He lifted his eyes to her, desperate to avoid the situation. “I said no.” He shifted his stare back to the hall. “I don’t love her like that and it’s unfair to… go into a relationship that way. I’ve hurt too many people like that.”

 

Natasha was surprised. She didn’t show it, however. She was great at keeping her emotions in check, hidden, never to be seen by anyone - especially Tony. He would rip her apart the day she faltered, and she knew that. With him she had to be that aggressive counterpart. Literally _counter_ part. Had to disagree so he had something to fight against. Tony without fight was like Tony without brains - a bad idea.

“Who do you love?” That was all she wanted to know. She knew more than likely that she wouldn’t receive an answer, if anything she’d get a tilted head, furrowed brows and a frown that asked, ‘Why do you care?’ or maybe more ‘Who do you think you are?’.

“Why does that matter?” Wrong, two times over. Her analytical skills were being wiped away by Tony.

“I’m your friend, Tony. Regardless of how frustrating you can be, I’m still your friend.” She moved closer to him, seating herself on the couch. “So. Talk.”

“It doesn’t matter.” His eyes shifted to the hall again. 10 days. 10 days since he’d even heard a peep out of Steve. 10 days since he’d even crossed paths with the man. 10 days.

“Oh.” She smiled, a wry smile so devious Tony’s skin started to itch. He brought his eyes back to her, her eyes were on him. “Interesting.”

“What?” His brow lifted, he was always falling prey to his emotions, had a hard time hiding them too.

“Steve.” She chuckled. The solidity of her curiousness was being rectified. But she had already known that they were both pining after each other and both too stubborn to admit to anything. “It’s Steve.”

“What?” His voice broke a little, trying to sound more shocked than he really was. It wasn’t that surprising that Natasha had figured it out. He was bad at hiding things, and she was good at finding things. It was probably, most definitely, more than obvious to her.

“Nice try, Tony.” She leaned back into the arm of the couch, her legs lifting and crossing as she gained some sense of comfort.

“I… I would say I love Steve, yea… But not the way you’re -”

“Enough of the BS Tony.” She kept her stare on him, less than amused at his dodgeful nature.

“I-”

“Tony. He loves you. Regardless of if he admits it or not.” Snitch, snitch, snitch. She couldn’t keep things to herself, more due to the fact that she was sick of all of them suffering and assumed if any of them could be happy it was Steve and Tony who deserved it.

“What?” Tony’s eyes shifted to the stirring in the hallway, watching as Cap came down the hall. Their eyes caught, and Tony’s belly tightened into knots. “H-Hey Cap.” Where was that submission from?

It had caught even Natasha off guard, a brow rising high on her forehead as she glanced over Tony’s awkward body. He was tense, watching Steve’s every move, more than obviously gulping from time to time. Trying to swallow his gut most likely.

“Hey.” Steve gave them a nod, moving further down the hall until he reached the kitchenette, just outside the living area. He was still in sight, so much so that Tony couldn’t pry his eyes away from him.

“Tony.” Natasha’s voice chimed in, trying to pull his attention away from Steve’s body moving about to prepare food. He was unaffected. “Tony?” Still he didn’t stir to her calls. “Tony?!” his eyes were met with the gaze of blue from Steve, hosting a small smile on his perfect lips.

“You ok, Tony?” Steve called out, shifting back around so Tony had a much more wanted view of his back.

“Why are you always shirtless?!” Tony shook his head, pulling his attention to Natasha, fending off the red that begged to tickle his cheeks. “He’s always shirtless! All the time!”

“You say that like you don’t like the view.” She smiled, no tact, no tact at all. She was setting them both up. Devious little thing.

“What?!” Tony looked away from her, finding himself being drawn to Steve’s movements once again. “Oh come on, Rogers! Put on a damn shirt!”

“I’m good, thanks!” Perhaps Steve was producing a confidence he’d never had in hopes of out dominating Tony - or lying to himself about his intentions with Tony. Either way the scene was horrifying for Tony. He was losing control - something he hated, and he didn’t mind it - something he hated even more.

“Steeeeeve.” He groaned, looking to Natasha in hopes she would see the pleading in his eyes. He was rebuffed, with her raised arms and down tilted head, white flag. She was a simple bystander, a messenger, someone who was a spectator to their relationship.  

“Don’t look at me Tony.” She shook her head, eyes glancing over to Steve as he turned around, again.

“What’s wrong Tones?” There that pet name was again. “You uncomfortable? I’ll go put a shirt on.” That wasn’t really what Tony wanted - hence the problem.

“No!” He caught himself, somewhat yelling. “No, uh it’s ok. Just don’t get burned.” Tony stood, and went to leave but was stopped by Steve standing in his way. “Hello naked chest, I’m Tony.”

“Very funny, Stark.” Steve looked down at him. “I think we need to talk. Have lunch with me.” His arms crossed and Tony stepped back.

“Your chest is ignoring me.”

“Tony!”

 

Natasha burst into laughter at Tony’s utter disregard for Steve’s seriousness, not to mention Steve’s utter disregard for Tony disposition for the close contact. It was interesting to see the two acting together, so much in the same book, different pages, different owners.

“Is everything a joke to you?”

“I recall you saying that to me before.” Tony looked down to the side, then back up at Steve. “Oh, yea… when we first met.” He gave Steve a false tight smile, eyes squinting as he looked up.

“Well, is it?!” Steve stepped closer to him, closing the little space between them. Tony had gotten even more uneasy from the closeness, not that he didn’t want it - that was what made him uneasy. He was enjoying the tension, craved it even.

The air was getting hot and heavy from all the tension between them, and Natasha was left just gawking at the scene, not expecting her plan to have played out so perfectly. Her eyes narrowed in on them. And she assumed it was the perfect opportunity to slip out of the room and leave them to their desires.

“No, of course not.” Tony tried to step back, being met with Steve stepping forward. What was it about Steve’s confidence that made Tony so uneasy? Was it because he couldn’t outdo him anymore? Was it because Steve made him feel so vulnerable it was awkward for him? Or did he like being vulnerable?

“Then why?” Steve leaned in, “do you keep turning everything into a joke?”

“Hi, I’m Tony, I use humor when I’m uncomfortable.” Tony leaned back, rather far, and held his hand out to Steve. “Nice to meet you Mr….?”

“Rogers. Steve Rogers.” Steve, though rolling his eyes, shook Tony’s hand. What were they doing?

“Nice to meet you Mr. Rogers.”

“That’s Captain Rogers, if you don’t mind.” Steve’s face had never looked so cocky in all the time that Tony had known him.

“Captain.” Tony’s breath was breaking with every uttered letter.

Tension, definitely some tension.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will likely be a short fic, I can feel it winding down already hahaha.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> {I CAN'T WRITE SUMMARIES ARGH}
> 
> Tony and Steve are on the same page of the book - different owners. They can't seem to grow the confidence to take the next step in their relationship. They don't want it to be a big ordeal - just a natural love story. 
> 
> But wanting and waiting isn't exactly Stark's nature. And lets face it, he always gets what he wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually liked writing this chapter. It's a little filler ish - but not really? This story doesn't have an actual plot other than the gala and displaying Steve's artwork so it's really just scenes I imagine between the two. Also this is ALL pre CW because :( CW. SO GOOD THOUGH OMG.   
> Legit. Like WOW.

The tension was definitely not one sided. For some reason, Tony uttering the word ‘Captain’ had made Steve’s gut churn. It wasn’t that Tony hadn’t said it before. He said it a lot - during battle, in the heat of the moment. But then, the way he’d half whispered it, his voice raspy and shaking from lack of confidence. It turned Steve on. And boy was he not having it.

“Thanks.” Steve pulled back, creating more space between them. He ran his hand through his blonde locks, eyes wide as the thoughts rushed in about what he was doing. He made his way back towards the kitchen, pleading to get away from Tony, hoping the thoughts would quit prattling about. 

“No prob, Cap.” That was easier to hear from Tony’s perfect lips - less of an adrenaline rush catalyst. Still, he cleared his throat, shaking his head as he pulled the makings of a sandwich from the refrigerator. He was more than obviously uneasy about it all, even felt the tingle of blood on his cheeks as his mind  _ forced _ in thoughts of Tony squirming with pleasure.  

He dropped the bread, hands grabbing the marble counter until his knuckles went white. He coughed, more of an attention grabbing noise than anything. He hadn’t really wanted Tony to look at him, even in his general direction, but the noise had beckoned the genius. Steve caught sight of him from his periphery and pushed up against the counter, struggling to find anything else to focus on. 

“You ok, Steve?” Tony’s brow raised high, an annoyed look of confusion resting tightly on his face. 

“Yea.” Steve croaked out the response, a little too quickly. He was most definitely hiding something unsettling, and Tony wasn’t a fool. 

“Out with it Spangles.” 

“What?” Steve turned his head to look at Tony, grabbing the counter hard enough to snap the marble. He looked down, wide eyed. He was somewhat terrified to look at Tony who he assumed was giving him an irritated and flat expression. 

“Seriously? That was my favorite marble in the entire building and you just snapped a chunk off like a piece of damn bark.” He whined, poking at the shard pieces. 

“I’m sorry.” Steve turned to look at Tony, lips pursed as puppy eyes scanned up to the deep brown gaze Tony had. 

“Not that look.” Tony pulled his eyes away from him. “Come on - don’t.” He glanced back. “Ugh, stop being so cute and adorable!” Tony threw his hands in the air. “It’s fine, I’ll just renovate it later this week!” He groaned, turning back to look at Steve. He’d created a lot of space between them. 

“I’m sorry.” Steve puffed out his bottom lip, much more relaxed than usual. He was constantly Mr. Serious - Tony like when he was taking a ‘chill pill’. 

“Don’t Steve, it’s fine. I know you didn’t  _ mean _ to break it.” Tony’s eyes narrowed onto Steve, watching him bend as he picked up the loaf of Artesano bread he’d dropped. “Why did you grab it like that though? Are you ok?” 

“Uh-” Steve stumbled over his words, setting the bread down as he gulped. “I’ve just been… Uneasy about some things.” 

“Is it me?” Tony’s eyes softened, arms crossing. It was a weak attempt at a physical barrier that stood no chance against a barrage of  psychological insults. 

“What? No.” Steve looked at him, his brows furrowed. He looked so annoyed and grumpy. But the look was washed away as soon as Tony sighed in relief. 

“Thank god.” Tony laughed. “I honestly don’t think I can handle Romanov on my own - so you  _ can’t _ leave.” 

“Coincidentally, she said the same thing about you.” Steve pointed the butterknife out at Tony, one brow raised in defiance. “So play nice Mr. Stark or you’ll have me to deal with.” 

“What are you gonna do, spank me?” Tony held back the urge to go wide eyed at his returned confidence. He was on autopilot with the innuendos most of the time. With Steve he couldn’t even think of a response it was just an immediate reply that usually ended in him being suggestive. 

“I could. Your parents clearly didn't do it enough to you growing up.” Steve’s eyes couldn’t fight the urge to widen at his more than eager tongue to answer Tony’s response. He was not good at playing people. 

“Oh.” Tony choked out the response, seating himself at the table. They’d both forgotten about Natasha leaving them in peace, and Tony was frantic to find someone to relieve the sexual tension that was brewing. Romanov knew  _ exactly _ how to do that. 

But alas she was nowhere in sight, doing that creepy widow disappearing act was one of Tony’s peeves. They could be in the middle of a conversation, he’d turn away from a second and POOF. Of course JARVIS always had sights on her, but if she was that desperate to get away from him, he should let her be. But in the situation he was in with Steve, where he could feel his belly dancing at the wanted anxiety, all he wanted was for her to pop in and clear the air. Because what would  _ actually _ happen if they did get together? Chaos, utter bedlam, a massively huge breach of protocol.

“Sorry.” Steve’s voice broke into the silence as he set down a plate before Tony. In all honestly the man had looked a little peakish. Steve had always worried he was drinking too much and not eating enough - classic Tony. 

“It’s ok.” Tony’s  mind was already in other places. He forced himself to think about his work. He was designing a suit for Steve, something more durable than any of his other suits, more bullet proof too. Steve  _ wasn’t _ invincible - and it scared Tony the way he just went in without fear of dying. But like he always said: ‘It’s a price I’m willing to pay for.’ 

“So…” Steve cleared his throat. “Why were you trying to play matchmaker with me and Romanov?”  

“‘Romanov and I’, Steve.” Tony lifted his sparkly brown gaze to Steve’s radiant blues, a soft smile on his lips. “And I wasn’t.” He let out a sigh. “I was uh…” He groaned, not wanting to divulge anything too serious.

“What?” Steve cocked his head, both their sandwiches remained untouched on the table. They were too busy staring into each others’ eyes to eat. 

 

“Jesus.” Their heads snapped to the voice that echoed into the room. Clint. “I’m waiting for you two to kiss.” He let out a laugh, arms crossed. 

“Clint!” Steve stood up. “I’m happy to see you!” He moved around the chair and pulled Clint into a short embrace.

“Hey, Steve, Tony.” He gave Tony a nod and returned his arms to his chest. He looked them over, a delicate smile dancing more in his eyes than on his lips. “So seriously, kiss already.” He let out another laugh, only a little more than half serious. 

“Funny guy.” Tony rolled his eyes, standing. “I’ll see you later, Rogers.” That coldness he always had when anyone but Natasha was around. 

“Don’t leave on my account. I’m meeting with Natasha. I’ll catch up with you guys later.” Clint gave a head wave and bounced back off the steps, moving down the hall towards Romanov’s room. 

“Why would you leave just because he got here?” Steve brought his eyes down at Tony. He swore the brunette was smoldering up at him. “Tones?” Shit, he didn’t mean to use that name. 

“Because Steve.” Tony gnawed at his lip, eyes shaking as he stared into the deep ocean of eyes. “I…” He gulped. “I just…” Where was his confidence hiding? He’d bedded plenty of people - but that word,  _ that _ word was something very few had ever been graced with. 

“Tony?” Steve’s face twisted, brows lifting, his lips twisted into a frown. Puppy eyes, those damn puppy eyes, all wet and sparkling in the light. 

“I…” He groaned, again, pulling his eyes away from Steve. He didn’t want it to be a big deal, he just wanted to say it, in the moment, and the moment was wrong. He couldn't say it, he’d ruin things. “I just… Clint and I don’t always get along.” Liar, liar, pants on fire.

“Oh.” 

That Oh. Great, Steve was expecting something he hadn’t heard - of course he was. He’d admitted earlier that week - ok 10 days ago - that he wanted Tony. So to hear his excuse not being what Steve knew it was - upsetting to say the least. But he let it go. He knew, or rather, hoped, that eventually Tony would get the courage to say it. It wasn’t like Steve had said it, so he didn’t have any room to judge. 

“I’m sorry.” Tony knew Steve knew, it was the elephant in the room. They refused to address it but both acknowledged it. It was a rather awkward scenario to be in. 

“Don’t worry about it. It’ll... “ Steve bit at his lip, staring down at Tony, head cocked a bit as he took in the view. He’d never seen Tony so displaced before. It was intriguing - and attractive. “It’ll happen eventually, Tony. When it’s supposed to.” 

They were  _ definitely _ on the same page about what they wanted. But they were also both afraid of turning the damn page. For various reasons. 

“I’m hosting a party tomorrow. Do you want to be my arm candy?” Tony locked his eyes on Steve, an attempt at pseudo confidence. 

“Um - Sure? But wouldn’t you rather take Tash?” 

“What, why?” Tony’s face couldn’t have looked more confused even if he tried to make it, or if he had been. 

“Because… she’s a girl… and…” Steve’s voice trailed away a soft pink lifting to his cheeks. Tony smirked at the sight of the uneasy Captain America. 

“I wonder if you’re a top or a bottom.” Did he say that outloud, yes, yes he did. And he clasped his hands over his mouth as soon as he saw Steve’s slightly pink face go full red. Nearly matched his Iron Man red. 

“Tony!” Steve croaked out, turning away from him. “I can’t believe you’d -”

“It’s a legitimate question!” Tony flung his arms through the air. “Don’t blame me for being curious! You’re all cute and naive and it makes me wonder!” 

“Stop thinking about it!” Steve whined, turning away from him. 

“I need to know eventually!” 

Silence. 

Of course Tony was thinking about  _ that _ . And Steve had in fact had one dream in which the roles were reversed. And he hated admitting that, because he couldn’t imagine Tony ever being that aggressive in bed. Not to mention even in his dream Steve was very uncomfortable with the idea, but a cute and begging Tony had convinced him. 

He remembered the dream, upon the flood of recollection his body tensed up and Tony noted it, a brow lifting. 

“Spangles?” 

“What?” He glanced back at Tony, body still tight and hard. “I’m..” Steve gulped. “I’ve thought about it… a lot.” Shut up, shut up, shut up - seriously stop talking. 

“Being a top or bottom?” Tony shifted towards Steve, remembering his sandwich. 

“Us.” Steve turned back to face him. “How it would - work.” He pursed his lips, eyes trailing over to the table. Lunch had been left behind. 

“Oh.” Tony nodded. “And?” 

“Uh…” Steve took in a deep breath. He wasn’t one to advertise but the dreams and thoughts  _ were _ about Tony. “It’s… Usually me on top. But I think that’s just my mind assuming because I had a hard time accepting that I might actually want to be with you - so my mind just started to make me - I don’t… this isn’t… I just assumed that that’s how it would play about with us. I mean it’s not that you aren’t manly or anything - I just… I don’t know. You just seem like you’ve already explored that option so… I just assumed that you would be ok with it. I mean if you weren’t we could - I could… try… for you -” 

“Shh.” Tony pressed his finger to Steve’s lips, staring up at him just as sultry as ever. “It’s ok. I’m not ready for this either.” 

Relief, and a bit of disappointment. Tony wanted Steve, and Steve wanted Tony, but they didn’t want their relationship to become this big thing - or to really  _ talk _ about it. With anyone. It would happen, eventually they would feel the moment - and things would change, they just needed to let it happen. 

Waiting and wanting. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok! Thanks for reading my fic. Also if you have any requests I take prompts. I ADORE writing so please feel free to send me requests :D


	5. Don't Let Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saying Sorry can be hard, but for some it comes far too easily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy this chapter :) It's all in all something that lasts about 5 minutes so... yay?

Looking up at the night sky from the rooftop was one of Tony’s favorite pass times. It gave him a strange sense of belonging while at the same time making him feel insignificant. He related it to the fact that he knew what was out there, without a doubt. He didn’t need convincing of how important existence in itself was, he knew it in his heart. He was at the forefront of protecting that very ideal, a task that had disabled his sanity, and left him dealing with corrupted thoughts.

But even still, he could never get over seeing the milky way in all its glory. There was something about the wee hours of the morning that called to him to look into the sky, alone on the roof. He always stood in the same place, glass of scotch in his hand, a half smile that hid pain placed upon his lips. There was so much to the man that none had ever seen. A pain he fought hard to hide, even from Steve.

“Tones?” The name left Steve’s lips without decision. He hadn’t meant to use that name, had gone out of his way to avoid using the name since their lunch. He’d succeeded in doing so, for 2 days - sad.

Tony didn’t move, just kept his head tilted up, staring at the stars. It was 3 am. 3 hours past the restart of the day. 3 hours past when Tony ‘went to bed.’ 3 hours of Steve tossing and turning in bed. It had been 3 hours of pinning, not at all one sided.

“Tones?” Steve repeated himself, moving into Tony. His fingers grazed against Tony’s elbow. The rough patch of skin tingled at his fingertips, forcing his belly to churn at the small amount of connection.

“It’s beautiful.” Tony turned his head to Steve, eyes still staring up. He couldn’t pull his eyes away from all the sparkling dots. He was lucky the tower was so high. It was the only reason he was able to even see the stars.

“It is.” Steve nodded, his blue gaze locked on Tony’s face. He had never seen someone look so pure. There was something hidden in Tony’s eyes, something lurking beneath the vibrant brown that beckoned to him. Something pulled him in, something drew Steve to touch him, to hold him, to coddle him.

His arms wrapped around Tony’s chest. Steve’s hand laid flat against his belly. He knew in an instant the affection was surprising. He heard the tight catching of breath in Tony’s throat as a gasp forced its way through his partially parted lips. Tony’s head dipped to the side, taking in the sweet aroma Steve had. The man always smelled perfect, clean, like fresh linen. It was something nostalgic. He lost himself in the moment and brushed against Steve’s shoulder.

“You should be in bed.” Steve’s voice was rough against Tony’s ear, hot breath cascaded over delicate skin. He craned his head, exposing the soft skin of his neck so the heat of Steve’s breath enveloped him.

“I can’t sleep alone anymore.” Tony’s arm trailed back, fingers catching the soft locks of Steve’s hair. He grabbed at it and tangled his fingers in the strands. Steve made a strange noise at the touch, it wasn’t a groan, or a moan, but something in between.

“Then don’t.” Steve’s lips moved against Tony’s neck as he spoke. He was taunting Tony with something he wasn’t quite sure he could follow through with.

“You offering a warm body?” Tony shifted under Steve’s arms. His hand grazed against Steve’s and their eyes met for a moment, immediately darting away at the contact.

“Maybe.” Steve pulled back, head tilted down as he gazed over Tony. “What do you want, Stark?”

“You.” Tony shifted around, facing Steve with such seriousness it was painful to see the unease in Steve’s eyes.

Not much had changed from the two days prior. But there was still enough build that taunting and teasing was their only chance to attain even small releases of the sexual tension constantly plaguing them both. Natasha and Clint had both left that night, just after dinner - in which “The Boys” ate alone - leaving Tony and Steve to their devices.

Even knowing how likely it was that Tony would answer him with that exact remark, it was still a little jolting to Steve. And it radiated so obviously so as he pulled back, biting at his lip.

“Yea…?” The frog was in Steve’s throat again.

“Yea.” Tony watched Steve standing before him. He looked like such a lost soul, head down, eyebrows pinched high on his head. He was in utter disbelief at what had been going on between them. He had convinced himself it was just their deep bond, that nothing would come of it. And even the way his lip moved in and out between his teeth was enough to show the catastrophic outcome he feared.

“Tones…” Steve gulped. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say, or even if he really wanted to say anything.

“Captain?” Tony stepped in, voice hushed, meant just for Steve, just for his ears, just for his skin to feel. He was too close. Steve wanted to pull back, still too afraid of what could happen, the chaos it _could_ cause. But he couldn’t pull away. His feet were cemented to the ground beneath him, as though a thousand years of tar had built up around his legs.

“Tony…” Steve leaned in, breathing in the scent of scotch that fell from Tony’s parted lips. His eyes peeked open, enough to see an exposed and vulnerable Tony Stark. The man held title, the man held honor, and strength, fighting so hard for too long. Steve could see that. IN the moment he stared down at Tony, he could see how desperate he was to _be_ protected, to _be_ safe, to _stop._

“I need you…” Tony’s head dropped into Steve’s chest as his hands clutched at the tank the soldier wore. “Please… don’t leave me... “

“Never, Tony.” Steve pulled him into an embrace he knew was hard to bare. Not for the sheer force, which of course was a bit much for Tony to handle, but because of the passion. In a simple gesture, a simple show of affection, Steve had made a promise to Tony, to always protect him, to always stand by him, to never leave.

The passion caught Tony off guard, and forced a gasp to fall from his lips. He clung onto Steve. Hands clutched so roughly at the muscles he felt as though he would claw Steve to death if he didn’t try and calm himself. But it was impossible to do. He had craved for a loving touch for far too long to let it go.

So he begged at his skin, refusing to let go, refusing to undo what had been done. Nails dug at flesh, begging for more connection more entanglement, more _feeling_. Steve had never felt such want and such longing in his life.

“Calm down, Tony.” Steve’s voice fell rough and wanting against Tony’s cheek. His words opposed his actions, he begged and tugged just as ferociously as Tony had. Body to body, skin to skin, so hard they pressed together. So much they begged to be together, as one.

“I want you, Steve.” He brought his gaze up, starring in the deep pearly blues that had taunted him for so long. Steve’s look of surprise could never be wiped from his mind. He watched in awe as Steve’s lips parted, eyebrows raised, eyes widened to show the reflection of the stars and the moon. The blue glow, the bright night, the awe inspiring blonde beauty before him had tortured his soul and mind for so long he’d forgotten how innocent Steve was. In all reality, he was a man so naive to the world and somehow so wise.

“What?” It wasn’t out of vanity that the question fell from his lips, but from the utter disbelief that a man as pure and perfect as Tony Stark had genuine desires for a man like him.

“I want you, Steve…” Tony repeated himself, his grip loosening a bit. Enough so that Steve clung to him tighter, pushing back in. Reassurance, he had to give reassurance to Tony. As unexpected as the vulnerability was, he needed to be wanted, needed to be craved and desired, and he’d not known it until the words had fallen from such perfect lips.

He didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t a reply in any part of his mind that could compare to such a truth. He wasn’t ready, even then, to admit to Tony that he felt the same way. Something was holding him back, something he was unaware of. Holding Tony, holding him so tight he should have suffocated the poor man was the only thing he could do. He couldn’t move, could barely breath, could barely bring himself to not look mortified at the repeat of affection.

“I want you so bad, Steve… I just…” Tony muttered against tight skin, hot breath leaving a moist tingle at the cold flesh exposed to the world. “I just want someone to love me… and I’m too much to love, aren’t I?”

He still couldn’t answer. He was still too in shock of the realization. He hadn’t known how serious it was to Tony. He begged to answer, the ‘no’ stung at his eyes, and his throat, like the burn of liquor. He begged for his lips to move, begged for them to give a reply, to grant Tony with some form of love, some acceptance. He couldn’t make a sound, no noise, nothing more than a grip of death.

He felt the unease take Tony’s body. The anxiety must have been unbearable. To speak such a thing in itself was probably a great dose of unease, and to be greeted with complete silence - Steve knew that Tony’s head was likely spinning out of control.

“Am I?” Tony huffed against Steve’s chest, clinging to him. He’d never cried in front of him before, not once, but there, under the moon, in his most truthful form - he was done hiding. He was done fooling around, he was done wasting time.

So Tony continued to cry. He cried hard, sobbed into Steve until his eyes were sore and dry, raw against the fabric of the tank stained dark gray from salty water. He blubbered and gasped for air he couldn’t really take in. And Steve just held him, arms never wavering, never letting up the tight hold they offered. Like a shield he was prepared to protect Tony with all he had.

 

Silence enveloped them. They stood in a cocoon of blistering confusion. Like love, so tangled and engaged in misaligned want and need, a catastrophic dissociation of reality to fantasy, they found themselves lost.

Steve was entirely incapable of screaming what he needed to say, incapable of conveying in the simplest form what he desired to display. The words teased and taunted at his tongue, resting on the tip of his mind, the tip of his soul, and the tip of everything about him. How he craved to say, ‘I love you, Tony.’ but he was unable to bring the words forth. He was incapable, unable to even utter them, no matter how the passion burned like fire in his throat and heart.

His lips parted, hot breath falling onto Tony’s warm cheek. He moved to speak, again, begging to let out a noise, anything, anything at all to show the man he was _trying_ . So desperately was he _trying._

But silence was all he offered.

“That’s why Pepper left me… I’m too much, I’m too damaged, I’m too fucked up. No one will ever love me… Please Steve, please don’t-” Tony choked on his tears, gasping for air he couldn’t breathe in, “-please don’t leave me! Please!” His hands dug at Steve’s chest, nails scratching into soft flesh.

A soft move of his hand, enough to pull Tony in tighter, the small of his back, such an intimate place to hold. Steve felt the breath catch in Tony’s throat. He felt the mood switch. He felt the self hatred leaving Tony as the small inkling of love festered and burrowed its way into the depths of the geniuses mind.  

The soldier still couldn't speak, was still too surprised and confused at the moment of intimacy to bring even a small noise to his throat. All he did was breath, holding Tony so tightly he could hardly stand the pressure of the man against himself.

Locks of deep brown fell over Steve’s hand as it shifted and ran through Tony’s hair. He made his way through the strands, forcing Tony’s head down, to the dry shoulder. It was all he could offer, some form of strange comfort - affection. Anything he could do to show Tony he was not by any means, ‘too much’.

Holding him, so hard, so close, so unwilling to ever let go, Steve found himself realizing what he’d known all along. He was so madly in love with Tony he simply couldn’t imagine life without him. He couldn’t imagine leaving, couldn’t imagine never seeing him again, couldn’t stand the thought of ever even being away from him.

“You shouldn’t talk like that, Tony.” Finally the words he’d longed to say came pouring from his mouth. Like an avalanche, all the tension in his voice spilled over as he spoke his love’s name. Like the sun reaching the Earth for the first time, the daylight upon the creation of the universe, a bang - it all came into clarity.

  


“I’m sorry.”

  
_“They say apologizing all the time is a sign of emotional abuse.”_ Natasha’s words slammed to the forefront of Steve’s mind. _“So when he says ‘I’m sorry.’ don’t say, ‘Don’t apologize.’ say ‘I forgive you.’ There’s nothing you can ever do that will undo what has been done to him, Steve. All you can do is love him the way he is. Don’t try to fix a man who already fixed himself.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may or may not be the end of this... I'm leaving it open in case I decide to come back to it... Idk though, I kinda like that the progression of the story, and there's no real plot, like I said... if you have any ideas let me know!? Cause I'm always open to suggestions!

**Author's Note:**

> Lack of commenting concerns me :/


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